edit: Chaos attacked random fcc guy (saxton) then FCC declared war
Cikel sat at his desk with a full belly. His phone lay lifeless to his right surrounded by empty tea mugs. On the floor next to him lay a plate once filled with oreos. He hadn't showered today, but then again who would he shower for? He casually picked his nose and sent his findings flying away with a flick. He leaned back in his chair and found himself in the diplomacy section.
He was bitter.
Not so much at FCC for their diplomacy posts, or the way dbrookz reacted to his "omg fcc abuse" jokes. Not at gnmutoo breaking character and telling him to shut the fuck up. Not so much at Fimbulvetr for ignoring his warnings. Not at Bonesaw who frequently takes things too seriously. Not at Occitan for playing the right move. Not at the people who lash out in anger more than occasionally. Not at the bro coders who waste everyone's time. Not at the community he calls home.
He was jaded.
He checked the strat map often. Too often. He checked it when he woke up and turned on his computer. He checked it before leaving the house (though he rarely left). He checked it in his mind before he went to sleep, the ever expanding red burned into his sight. He felt anxious. He felt anxious over a video game. He felt anxious over a video game at best represented by an online map with circles and different colored texts.
He felt bad.
Of course it wasn't solely his fault. Most Frisians were tired of beating up on Hospitaller and were actively looking for a new target. He had cautioned against attacking FCC just yet. His primary target had always been VE. They were suffering in a war that had recently gained them very little ground at the cost of too many men. Their morale was starting to waver and they were becoming inactive. FCC had never looked stronger.
And Chaos/FIDLGB attacked.
He had initially merced for FCC against FIDLGB in the first few battles. His kd's, like many others, were obscenely high. It was clear something had to be done. The greens seemed to attack without purpose, without goals. They had no desire to expand. They just wanted to fight the strongest faction. Noble enough considering that most of their members were afk.
And their armies crumbled.
A clan who doesn't enjoy using plate with pierce weapons will rarely enjoy victory. A clan who doesn't plan their inventory out will find themselves falling short. A clan who isn't ready to declare total war against their enemies will never succeed. The time for action had come. He added his voice to the others, their resolve growing and resonating until union came to fruition. They were cocky to the point of being conceited. How could any faction handle 12,000 troops hurled at them with short notice.
So he planned.
He knew the truth of the matter. He had been in FCC for a short time, but had seen enough. He knew their mind set and their resolve. He knew that they would not quaver under the newest threat, but welcome it with open arms. He knew what trouble Fimbulvetr was about to get itself into. It could be avoided, if they did not make the same mistakes everyone else did when attacking FCC.
And pleaded.
He begged them to listen to his counsel. And it seemed as though they did. "We should only be looking to reinforce FIDLGB and Chaos" they had decided. It was a good plan, if not a bit cautious. But somehow or another his tactic was lost in their pride and thrown to the steppe wind. Our minds were filled with thoughts of recent victories, our chests bursting with hubris.
So he watched in horror.
As random, haphazardly planned attacks were ordered with no intention of taking land. As field battles took place playing right into the enemies hands. As Ill equipped men were sent off to certain doom. As armies ran out of gold and conscripts ran away. As thousands of lives were lost in a matter of days. It was a nightmare. And all the while FCC planned and eagerly awaited their turn.
And where were they now? Back exactly where they had started. Countless attacks yielding nothing more than angry mercenaries tired of losses. Relations strained between Fimbulvetr factions. Bowlers days away from being broken. Chaos nowhere to be seen. Occitan turning their backs, a smile on Arrowaines lips. Cikel a broken man with nothing left to lose.
And everyone to blame.
